


Ending The Night: Disruption of Darkness

by MistressMycroft



Series: DragonLock [3]
Category: Being Human (UK), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Acrophobia, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Dragons flying accross London sky at night, Eventual Happy Ending, Fat shaming-from Sherlock, Fluff and Angst, Hieghts-flying off ledge of building in dragon form, Homophobic Language, Impled/ Referenced- child abandonment issues, Implied referenced mafia dealings, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Minor character death/funeral, M/M, Mary is not a bad person-implied past John/Mary, Minor Violence, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft's past relationship-revealed, Original Character Death(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, See part two for additional tags, Serial Killers, Sherlock Being A Good Brother mostly, Sherlock Being Mean, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Being a Drama Queen, alternate universe shifters, greg lestrade and sherlock holmes working a case, implied referenced gun violence, implied referenced pregnant character, implied/referenced amnesia-magic-original character, implied/refererenced minor original character death, mentions of divorce, mentions of needles/Syring/IV's, vampire attack, watson baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4618074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressMycroft/pseuds/MistressMycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place three years after Part 2: Greg Lestrade, his two teens, and Mycroft have settled into their lives quite nicely, all things considered (Sherlock faking his death). John and Sherlock have reconciled. Everyone seems quite happy with their lives when Greg get's Serial-killer case that changes his, and the lives of those around him dramatically.</p><p>Chapters, Tags, and Summary to be updated Weekly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Part two of my DragonLock series. This story takes place three years later (which include the two Sherlock was faking his death), and the plot of the story becomes much more interesting. Much Angst and Feels.

Greg was working a difficult case and had just gotten a lead. He called Sherlock in for help when suddenly there was a break, and they found the hideout of the killer they had been searching for. When they raided the building they found a young woman who had been recently taken, alive. The killer was nowhere to be found. Greg and the team called for an ambulance. While the EMTs checked her over Greg decided to question her. 

“Miss, do you know who took you?” Greg asked.  
“No, Sir. I am blind as a bat.” Salina replied.  
“Lestrade!” someone yelled.  
“Oi, the freak’s here!” Donavan shouted.  
“Sally, don’t call him that.” Greg sighed.  
“Gram, why did you call me? This isn’t even worth my time, and look you’ve gone and solved it yourself.” Sherlock pouted.

“It’s Greg! And I felt it necessary at the time.” He replied.  
“Well then there is n….” Sherlock was cut off.  
“Lockie?”Salina asked.  
“Who?” John asked.  
“Salina…Wha…How…Here?” Sherlock asked.  
“I…I don’t know.” Salina replied. Sherlock walked to her, pulling out his phone and typing away.  
“Sherlock, what is going on?” John asked, confused. Sherlock ignored him and went back to his phone.  
“Sir, she needs to go to the hospital.” An EMT interrupted.

“Right, Sher…”  
“I’ll be going with her.” Sherlock climbed into the back of the ambulance.  
“What about John?” Greg asked.  
“Taxi.” Sherlock said, closing the door behind him.  
“What? Sherlock!” John shouted.

“It’s alright, you can ride with me. I still have some questions to ask her.” Greg turned to his team and shouted, “Sally, I’m going to the hospital. You’re in charge of my crime scene.”  
“Right you are boss.” She replied.

*************************

“How is she Doctor?” Greg asked.  
“Physically she has just a few cuts, scrapes, and mild malnutrition. Otherwise she has mild Amnesia, probably caused by some kind of mental trauma. Unfortunately there is no telling when or even if her memories will return.” Dr. Smith.  
“Right, thanks.” Greg replied. The doctor nodded and left the room. Greg then turned to Sherlock, “So, are you going to tell me who she is?”  
“’Tis not my place.” Sherlock replied.  
“Then whose place is it?” Greg asked.

“Her father’s. Who should be here right about…”  
“Sherlock! What is going on? Your text was extremely vague.” Mycroft hissed from the doorway.  
“See for yourself, brother mine.” He stepped away from the bed, revealing a sleeping Salina. Mycroft gasped, his ever-blank mask slipping.  
“My?” Greg inquired.  
“Wh…How...” Mycroft struggled for words, before the mask slid back into place once more.  
“She is fine. Minor amnesia.” Sherlock replied.  
“And physically?” Mycroft asked.  
“Malnutrition.” He said flatly.

“Please tell me you’re not her father.” Greg said, looking at Mycroft.  
“If I told you as much, then I would be lying.” Mycroft replied.  
“What the hell, My. We’ve been living together, with my kids, for over six months. Together since…. Well bloody long enough that you should have mentioned this long before now.” Greg said harshly.  
“What!? Since when have the two of you been together?” Sherlock asked, shocked.  
“I’m sorry, Gregory.” Mycroft replied, looking at Sherlock.  
“Why didn’t I notice, I should have deduced that easily.” Sherlock whined, looking from Mycroft to Greg.  
“It was none of your concern, little brother. Though to be perfectly honest, you were rather busy dealing with John and Mary’s marriage problems, to notice.” Mycroft replied.

“But he…oh…god…delete….delete.” Sherlock hissed, grabbing his ears, shaking his head back and forth, and closing his eyes.  
“What is he doing?” Greg asked.  
“Trying to forget the thought of the two of you together,” John replied with a smirk.  
“Lockie…Lockie, what’s going on?” Salina asked sleepily. Sherlock moved back towards her side.  
“Your father is sleeping with my DI.” Sherlock accused.  
“My father?” She asked.  
“You know; tall, mean, fat, and ginger.” Sherlock sneered.

“Sherlock!” John chastised.  
“What? He is.” Sherlock replied.  
“Always with the insults; can the two of you not get along for five minutes, for the sake of this young woman?” Greg asked, gesturing towards Salina. Sherlock and Mycroft looked at each other for a moment before turning their attention towards Salina.  
“How are you feeling?” Mycroft asked quietly.  
“Did you really just ask such a stupid question, Mycroft?” Sherlock asked in disbelief.  
“Its ok, Lockie.” Salina reached a hand out towards the two of them. Mycroft took her offered hand.  
“I am sorry, Salina.” Mycroft squeezed her hand gently.  
“I don’t remember anything….I don’t even remember who I used to be….almost everything is blank. Gone. I….I barely remember my name and the sound of Lockie’s voice. I’m sorry, but I do not remember you.” She replied. Mycroft froze inhaling sharply. He stood completely still, breathing deeply through his nose. 

“Mycroft?” Sherlock waved his hand in front of his brother’s face. Mycroft dropped Salina’s hand and walked to the door. He opened it and walked out, the door closing heavily behind him. “Mycroft!” Sherlock yelled after him. Salina turned her head away and Sherlock could see a single tear roll down her cheek. Sherlock hissed under his breath and rushed out the door after his brother.  
“Sherlock!” John exclaimed, following right behind the man.  
The room was entirely silent except for Salina’s quite weeping. Greg stood there just watching her, not knowing what to do to comfort her. What he did know is that Mycroft and Sherlock needed to talk about the situation; not that it would help any. Both men were as stubborn as could be. Greg moved to sit in the chair positioned next to the bed. 

“Who’s there?” Salina asked quietly.  
“It’s Greg. I’m…”  
“The only one who didn’t leave me?” She turned towards him, her face streaked with tears.  
“I didn’t want to get in the middle of a fight between the Holmes brothers.” Greg joked.  
“I’m sorry.” Salina replied reaching for him, “I…I’m trying to remember, but everything is...”  
“Gone.” Greg finished.  
“Gone.” She confirmed.  
“Well, it will take time but I’m sure that it will come back to you.” Greg took her hand and kissed it gently.

“You said earlier that you have children. Would you tell me about them?” She asked, wiping at her cheeks with the other hand.  
“Stephanie turns sixteen this year and Marcus just turned seventeen last month. Her favorite color is pink, his is green. She likes to read, he likes movies. They both attend that posh private school in central London.” Greg replied thoughtfully.  
“What else?” She asked with anticipation.  
“Stephanie is average height; long brown hair that she keeps braided all the time and brown eyes. Marcus is tall, skinny as a rail, hair dyed black with one of those punk haircuts, and he also has brown eyes.” Greg shook his head at the thought of his son dressed all Goth-like while in attendance at the posh private school Mycroft paid for them to attend.  
“Then I assume that your daughter is sort of preppy. Do they still call it that?” She giggled.  
“If you mean, does she dress in all pink all the time, then I would have to say yes.” Greg laughed.

***

Mycroft!” Sherlock called, stalking down the hall after him.  
The taller man ignored him and kept walking until he reached the elevators. He pressed the button and stood there waiting silently. Sherlock walked up and, grabbing his shoulder, turned his brother to face him.  
“Sher… Ow.” Mycroft was cut short as he was slammed against the wall opposite the elevators.  
“Mycroft Holmes, you cold-hearted bastard! How could you just walk out of that room and leave her to suffer?” Sherlock hissed through clenched teeth, his arm shoved tightly against the elder brother’s windpipe.

“Sherlock!” John exclaimed, “This is a bit not good.” The shorter man tried to insert himself in between the two brothers.  
“Sherlock….” Mycroft gasped standing as still as possible not wanting to incite the younger man into more violence.  
“She was crying, Mycroft. Crying, because she couldn’t remember and because you decided to abandon her. Just like you did when she was a child; leaving her to be raised by your junkie little brother while you worked all hours of the night and day. You are a despicable excuse for a human being.” Sherlock let go of him and Mycroft slid to the floor. He sat there coughing and trying to regain his breath. Sherlock turned to go back to Salina’s room. 

“You’re right.” He whispered in between deep breaths.  
“What?” Sherlock whipped back to face his brother, belstaff coat swirling around him.  
“I said, you are right.” Mycroft looked up at him, his mask no longer in place. Pain evident in his eyes.  
“I don’t understand.” Sherlock replied.  
“I was a terrible father to Salina, and I never should have burdened you with my responsibility.” He moved to stand. 

“We are not talking about making me responsible, Mycroft. We are talking about how you discarded your own daughter without a second thought. How could you do that to her, dump her with me when I was off getting high all the time? Do realize the life I exposed her to?” Sherlock grabbed him by the front of his suit. 

“I….I was unable to….I could not…” He stopped at the murderous look he saw in Sherlock’s eyes.  
“You could not what, Mycroft?” He shook the taller man.  
“I was in pain, Sherlock. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to try and raise the child of the man whom I loved and let die? How difficult do you think it was for me to look at her every day after she was born and only see him? She was a constant reminder of him and my shortcomings.” Mycroft pushed Sherlock away from himself. 

“Pain of loss! That’s what you’re blaming this on. James is dead, Mycroft. You had no way of knowing that Snow was going to have him assassinated on the next mission. You both knew the risks of what your jobs entailed.” Sherlock spat, “As for that lame excuse about how she looks and your shortcomings…well I can only say that it is no wonder she hated you as a child. I understand why she decided to move to Moldavia to live with James’s father. It was much easier to get along with a parental figure who didn’t know her than one who couldn’t stand the sight of her.” Sherlock replied.

“I…I never wanted to alienate her.”  
“I also understand why you say caring is not an advantage.” Sherlock stepped back into his brother’s personal space, “You think Greg’s going to hang around after he finds out how you treated her? I don’t believe he will, and then you will be all alone again and don’t think for a minute that I will be there to help.” Sherlock whispered harshly.  
“You know, Mycroft. You could take this whole situation and make it into a second chance.” John interjected. Both brothers turned to look at the shorter man.  
“Second chance, what are you going on about?” Sherlock asked, confused. 

“She has no memory of who Mycroft is, right. So, why not use this opportunity to start again. You can be the supporting father figure in this hard time, and Sherlock can be the doting uncle. Like you both are with Stephanie and Marcus. Both of you will need to work together if she is going to regain any of her memories. Oh, and I would start off by telling her the whole bloody story, too.” John replied. 

“Do you really believe that will work?” Mycroft asked.  
“I think the real question is: do you want it to?” John asked.  
“More than anything,” he replied.  
“Good. Then your first step will be to go back to that room and apologize to your daughter for your sudden departure.” With that, John turned and began walking back down the hall. Mycroft watched him go. 

 

“Do not screw it up this time, Mycroft, or she might just have you executed for treason.” Sherlock whispered.  
“I have no doubt that she would.” He whispered back.

*******************

“Greg, Mycroft wants to speak with you alone. He’s waiting outside.” John said as he and Sherlock re-entered Salina’s room.  
“You will come back, won’t you?” Salina asked, holding firmly to Greg’s hand as he stood.  
“I promise.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. He then walked towards the door, opening it, and proceeding out into the hallway. “My?” He closed the door behind him as he called to his lover.  
“Here, Gregory.” Mycroft sat across the hall in a small private waiting area. Greg walked over and sat down next to him.  
“Are you going to explain to me just what the hell is going on?” Greg asked, covering the man’s hand with his own.  
“Yes.” He replied, pulling his hand away.

“So, you have a daughter.” Greg didn’t look at him.  
“Yes.”  
“Is that all you are going to say, because if it is then this conversation is over.” Greg began to stand when a hand shot out and grabbed his forearm.  
“Please. Just give me a moment to collect my thoughts.” The hand holding Greg’s arm let go and he sat back down.  
“All right.” Greg sat quietly and waited for Mycroft to speak.  
“Do you recall the story I told you when we first began our relationship?” He asked.  
“Yes.” 

“He and I were….You are aware that I cannot reveal to you any details of what my job is.” Greg nodded, “We were engaged when…” Greg cut him off.  
“How could you have been engaged if gay marriage has only just become legal in the U.K.?” He asked.  
“By vampire law it does not matter what your sexual orientation is, marriage is marriage. He was their prince, what were the council members going to say? No.” Mycroft brought a hand up to stop him from asking any further questions, “Now, as I was saying; he and I were engaged when I found out I was carrying his child. We were…”

“You were what? How…. That’s…”Greg looked at him with confusion.  
“I am a dragon, Gregory. Did they not teach you in school that our race is able to have children no matter our gender? Our biology makes us special in this way.” He locked eyes with the man.  
“Is that why whenever we….You know…You always insist on my using a condom?” Greg asked.  
“It is. I am sorry, but I could not put myself through that again.”  
“Pregnancy?”  
“No. Losing the father of my child.” Mycroft stood and turned away.  
“Losing….what really happened to James?” Greg stood behind him.  
“I’m afraid….He was assassinated whilst on a mission for MI-6. He was ambushed by Mr. Snow’s men and there was nothing I could do to help him. I watched as they…murdered the only man I had ever loved. And in my grief I pushed away the only person who could heal my heart.” Mycroft choked out the last words. 

“You mean Salina?” Greg placed a hand on the taller man’s shoulder.  
“Yes. I threw myself into my work and left her in Sherlock’s care. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he was experimenting heavily with drugs. By the time I became aware of that little fact, I had managed to alienate my own daughter and earned her utmost hatred. She was ten when she informed me that she would be leaving to live with James’s father. I did not stop her.” Mycroft stood silently in place.  
“Wow. That’s one hell of a story….If you were such a terrible father to her then tell me something. Why are you so good with Stephanie and Marcus?” Greg asked.  
“I…I believe it is because I knew the mistakes I had made with my own child, and wished desperately not to repeat those mistakes.”

“Who is Mr. Snow?” Greg let his hand fall from Mycroft’s shoulder as the man turned around swiftly to face him.  
“Of everything I have just told you, that’s the part you wish to focus on?” he asked, eyes wide.  
“Yep. Now care to tell me who the bastard is?” Greg crossed his arms.  
“He is an ancient who wishes for vampires to enslave all humans and shifters, taking their place as rulers of the world.”

“So he’s a maniac who’s been alive just long enough for the immortality to go to his head.” Greg confirmed.  
“In a manner of speaking, yes. He believes that if he kills the royal family it will enable him to have total control over all vampires—and that they will follow him without question.”  
“You once said you were the most dangerous man I would ever meet, were you lying?” Greg asked, taking Mycroft into his arms.  
“No.” He did not elaborate but Greg could tell that he was not telling him everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events begin to unfold a more sinister plot behind Salina's sudden appearance, life begin to unravel around everyone, and some familial bonding occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: I apologize in advance if any one is particularly squeamish when it comes to the mention of needles and or medical implement abuse, glass cuts, and vampire violence.

“Are we really going to have a step-sister?” Stephanie asked, jumping up and down with excitement.  
“Technically yes, but I would not get too attached. She may not want to stay when her memory returns.” Greg replied.  
“When is she coming home?” Stephanie asked.  
“Soon as the doctors say she has recovered from the malnutrition.” He said, picking at his dinner.  
“I wouldn’t think a vampire could suffer from that particular ailment.” Marcus commented.  
“Come to find out it is worse. If deprived of blood for too long, a vampire could go mad.” Sherlock supplied, taking a drink of his wine.  
“Do you think that’s why she got amnesia?” Stephanie asked. 

“No.” John said bluntly, “the doctors seem to think that it was something that happened to her while she was being held captive.” He explained.  
“Is this really an appropriate conversation for the dinner table?” Mycroft asked, pushing away his plate.  
“Well you did stop eating, so I believe my mission has been accomplished.” Sherlock smirked.  
“Congratulations on reaching such a minimal goal in life, little brother.” Mycroft stood and walked towards the kitchen, plate in hand.  
“Thank you, Sherlock. Now it will take me a week to get him back on a regular eating schedule. It’s not enough that he isn’t sleeping because of what is going on, but you have to continue with the fat jokes.” Greg stood to go after his lover.  
“I never mentioned the word fat, did I?” Sherlock looked at John, who only sat shaking his head in disappointment. He sighed, standing and brushed past Greg and into the kitchen to inquire about Mycroft’s health. 

When Sherlock entered the kitchen it was empty. Curiosity getting the best of him, Sherlock walked through the kitchen and out the other door. He made his way through the hallway leading from the entry way of the house, to the indoor pool room at the back of the house. He found the elder Holmes sitting in one of the patio chairs, a cigarette in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other. His eyes were closed and he had a look of concentration on his face.  
“May I join you?” The younger Holmes asked.  
“If you must.” The elder replied.  
“Greg said that you are not sleeping or eating. Care to tell me why?” Sherlock reached out and grabbed a cigarette out of the box sitting on the table; when he reached for the lighter a hand grabbed his.  
“Care to tell me where Salina picked up the habit of smoking?” Mycroft asked.  
“Deflection. Excellent try, Mycroft, but it’s not going to work. Answer the question?” The hand on top of his let go. Sherlock took the lighter and lit up.  
“I told Salina everything, just like John suggested. She has refused to talk to me since. What am I to deduce from that, other than she remembers, or she hates me without the memories?” He tilted his head back and let out a puff of smoke. 

“John and I talked to her this afternoon. She seemed to be in good spirits. She also talks to Greg, which is a positive sign for you considering he is going to be her step-father.” Sherlock inhaled with a look of pure pleasure on his face. “And to answer your question, I taught her to smoke. Just to spite you for leaving me to look after your child. I promise that is all she learned from me.”

“I beg to differ. She has more of your personality that she will ever have of her parents.” Mycroft smiled, “She learned how to be a petulant child, just like you. Though, she did not catch onto your sociopathic tendencies, for which I am extremely grateful.”  
“Are you entirely sure about that?” A wide smile spread over Sherlock’s face.  
“Quite.” The elder Holmes smiled back.

*****************

One week later, Greg and John sat in the private waiting room at the hospital. John had just returned from checking on Salina.  
“The nurse said that they were going to release her today. Where’s Mycroft?” John asked.  
“I don’t know. Probably with Sherlock, since they’re both missing.” Greg replied.  
“Yeah. Those two have been very chummy lately.” John sat down across from Greg.  
“I think Sherlock is trying to keep My from wasting away. I don’t think he has slept a single hour since this whole thing started.” Greg ran his hands over his face. Between work, looking after the two brothers, and checking on Salina every day, Greg was exhausted.  
“Salina wanted to talk to you. I think she may be ready to forgive Mycroft.”  
“Right. I’ll just check on her then, shall I?” Greg stood and walked towards the hospital room. 

When he entered, he found a man leaning over Salina with a syringe. Instead of putting it into her IV, he was moving to inject her in the neck. “Hey, what are you doing?” Greg rushed the man, knocking him backwards, the syringe flying across the room to skitter to the far side of the floor. He grappled with the man before managing to get a swing in. By this time, Salina had woken up and let out a piercing scream, catching Greg off guard and enabling the unknown man to knock Greg out with one swing of his fist. He then scrambled to the other side of the room for the syringe. The door swung open violently as john entered, gun drawn. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?” He yelled, looking from Greg to the other man, who turned around, syringe in hand. The man hissed, showing his fangs to John before lunging. John fired a shot, but the man kept coming at him.  
“Mr. Watson, what do you think you are do….” The nurse screeched as she came running for the door. She was grabbed from behind by two other men. One sank his fangs into her neck and the other moved towards John, who moved to the left, insuring that the two vampires would run into each other. He then ran towards Salina, unhooking her from the wires and IV.  
“John, what’s happening? What’s going on? Where is Greg?” Salina asked as she was being lifted from the bed. 

“He’s right here. The vampires knocked him uncon—”  
“I’m fine; John, just get her out of here.” Greg groaned as he pushed himself off the floor. John turned to find that they were faced with three hissing vampires blocking the door. “Go! Get out of here!” Greg yelled, placing himself between John and the vampire assassins.  
“Just where the hell am I supposed to go, Greg!?” John yelled, holding tightly to Salina.  
“The window, John!” Greg yelled as one of the vampires rushed forward. John shot at the window, breaking the glass. The two of them rushed for the window, glass cutting the bottom of Salinas’s feet.  
“Salina, I need you to help me. I know you’re afraid, but you’re going to have to transform.” John helped her climb out the window and onto the ledge outside.  
“Transform? You want me to fly?” Salina shrieked, thanking and cursing her blindness. 

“Yes! No. I don’t know.” John replied, flustered as they shuffled along the ledge. Just then his phone rang. “Hello, Mycroft! Jesus Christ! Yes, there are three of them after us. Greg’s fighting them off. We’re sitting ducks out here on the ledge of this building.”  
“What are you doing on the ledge of the building?” Mycroft asked sternly.  
“Where the hell else were we supposed to go with three vampires blocking the damn door?” John hissed.

“Tell her to transform. The two of you will be able to fly away if you can guide her. I will send Sherlock to intercept you. I already have a team on their way to the Hospital.”  
“Alright. Fine.” John hung up and pocketed his phone. “Salina, Mycroft says you have to transform and fly. I’m going to try and guide you until Sherlock can get to us.” He said, holding her hand.  
“I can’t. I’m blind.” Salina replied.  
“You can, I know you can. Please, our lives depend on it.” John squeezed her hand harder. Salina closed her eyes, and slowly her skin changed from a pale white to deep cobalt blue scales. Her gown dropped from her frame as wings emerged from behind her. Her hands and feet grew into claws and her spine elongated to form a tail. Fully transformed, she was now three times her human size. “John, hop on my back and hold tightly around my neck.” She turned from him as she said this. John did as she said and soon they were in a freefall from the sixth floor of the building. 

“Blooodddyyy heeellll!” John screamed. “Up, you have to fly up!” John pulled on her neck. She let out a shrill, inhuman cry as she unfolded her wings. It was jolting as they stopped descending and leveled off. She began flapping her wings.  
“Which way? I cannot see where I am going.” She cried.  
“Straight, just keep flying straight until I tell you not to.” John replied, holding her tighter around the neck. She followed John’s instructions for a few miles until they heard a familiar voice call to them.  
“John, Salina, I’m coming up on your right. Do not be alarmed.” Sherlock came up alongside of them in his dragon form. His scales were all black and his form made up of almost entirely muscles. “Salina, can you feel the current of air that my wings are creating?”  
“Yes.” She replied.

“Follow the feel of that current and you will be fine. I’m going to fly in front of you.” Sherlock informed.  
“Alright.” They flew for another thirty minutes to Mycroft’s flat. Sherlock guided her through the landing.  
Mycroft was waiting for them. He held two large fluffy robes in his arms. After John climbed off Salina’s back, she collapsed to the ground and shed her dragon form. Mycroft moved to help her, dropping the robes. John looked towards Sherlock when he realized that the man was completely nude and bending to collect the robes. Sherlock slipped the blue one on and tied it closed. He then turned to help Mycroft dress Salina in the other robe. When it was tied shut, the two of them helped Salina into the flat and John followed. He locked the door behind him. 

“Did Greg make it out?” John asked.  
“Yes, he is in a car on the way here as we speak. The vampire assassins that ambushed you at the hospital were taken care of.” Mycroft replied as he and Sherlock lowered Salina to the sofa.  
“Is that Holmes-speak for ‘we didn’t kill them, but they are in a secure government compound being questioned as we speak’?” John asked. Sherlock let out a snort.  
“Only one survived long enough to tell us who they were working for and some other vital information.” Mycroft replied.

“M. is everything alright?” Stephanie asked from the top of the stairs.  
“Everything is fine. If you could do me the favor of retrieving the tea I have prepared from the kitchen, I would deeply appreciate it.” He replied, checking Salina for injury.  
“Ok.” She skipped down the stairs and off into the kitchen.  
“What happened to your feet?” Mycroft asked, looking towards John for an answer.  
“Greg told me to shoot the window!” John exclaimed at Mycroft’s scowl. They looked towards the door as a key could be heard in the lock.  
“I told you to use the window to escape, not shoot it and drag her through.” Greg said as he closed the door behind him. 

“God, Gram, you look terrible.” Sherlock commented as he went to retrieve the first aid kit.  
“You’re lucky I’m dead tired, mate, or I would be punching you in the face right now.” Greg walked over and sat on the sofa next to Salina. He looked at Mycroft, who gave him a weak smile as Salina leaned into Greg’s side, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or proud that you were able to fly blind with John on your back.” Greg leaned over and kissed her forehead.  
“Tea’s ready.” Stephanie walked into the room and placed the tea tray on the table in front of the sofa.  
“Thanks, but I think I’d rather have…” He stopped and looked at Stephanie as she handed him a cold beer.  
“You’re welcome. And here is an ice pack for her head, if you need it.”  
“Very generous of you, Stephanie.” Mycroft replied.

“By the way, where is Goth boy?” Sherlock returned with the first aid kit and knelt on the floor next to the elder Holmes, who stood and seated himself on the other side of his daughter.  
“He said he was staying over at Stephan’s to study for final examinations.” Stephanie said, pouring out the tea.  
“I regret to inform you that what he told you is a lie.” Mycroft accepted the offered teacup.  
“Yeah, well we kind of all knew that, didn’t we.” Sherlock began taking care of Salina’s feet.  
“Sherlock.” John warned. 

“Please, is there any other reason that the two of them spend so much time together other than the fact that they are secretly in a relationship together?” Sherlock asked in a mocking tone.  
“Be that as it may, Sherlock, could we please leave this discussion until the morning?” Mycroft requested.  
“Fine.” He finished with Salina’s feet and stood.  
“Right, I’m beat. I think I’m going to head to sleep.” Greg went to get up; he realized that Salina had fallen asleep next to him. He smiled and gently removed her from his person. He then scooped her up into his arms. 

“I’ll show you to her room.” Mycroft set his cup aside and stood. Greg followed him down the hall next to the stairs. He opened a door to their right, inside was a sparsely furnished bedroom. Greg set her down onto the bed gently. Behind them, John and Sherlock entered. “Dr. Watson, if you would.” Mycroft gestured for him to come forward. Sherlock handed John a large black bag. He set it down on the bed and opened it. He pulled out a bag of IV fluid and a bag of blood. He hooked them onto the medical pole next to the bed, attached the lines, and then set about the task of putting in a new IV.

“All set. She should be good for a couple of hours.” John said, closing up the bag again and setting it on the small bedside table.  
“I will stay with her; I’ve been sleeping since I got home from school.” Stephanie volunteered from the doorway.  
“Only if you feel up to it.” Greg said.  
“I’m good, since tomorrow is Saturday you don’t need to worry about school.” She walked farther into the room and sat on the bed, careful not to disturb its occupant. Sherlock and John walked towards the door.

“Alright, but if you need anything let us know right away.” He said, pulling her into a hug.  
“I will. Go get some sleep, the lot of you. I feel like I’m looking at a bunch of zombies.” She giggled.  
“Someone has watched too much television.” Sherlock scoffed.  
“Sherlock, you know where the other guest room is; please do us all a favor and make good use of it.” Mycroft said, patting his little brother’s shoulder on his way out of the room, Greg following behind him. They shut the door quietly and walked back down the hall.  
“You should get some sleep as well, brother mine. You look like death warmed over.” Sherlock sneered.  
“Pot, kettle, little brother.” Mycroft replied, ascending the stairs, “Gregory, if you would join me I would very much appreciate it.” Without another word he continued towards The Master bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More on the way soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the household wakes up to Marcus frantically pounding on the front door early the next morning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains homophobic language, implied/referenced homophobia, mentions of child abuse/domestic abuse, and minor original character death.

It was early morning when there was a loud pounding noise at the front door. Greg woke with a start.   
“My, there’s someone at the front door.” Greg threw the blankets off and scrambled around on the floor for his clothes, Mycroft did the same. Greg grabbed his gun from the bedside table and exited the bedroom. Mycroft swiftly followed. They crept slowly down the stairs. Sherlock and John came rushing out of the guest room. John had his gun drawn.   
“What’s that racket?” Sherlock whispered.  
“Don’t know.” Greg replied as they reached the first floor.  
“DAAAADDD!” The pounding increased.  
“It’s Marcus!” Greg ran for the door.  
“Greg, wait. We don’t know if there’s anyone else out there with him. He could be held up by the assassins.” John called after him. Greg stopped at the door.

“Marcus, are you alone?” Greg asked.  
“What a dumb question. Like he is really going to answer that….” Sherlock began before John slapped a hand over the man’s mouth.   
“It’s just me and Stephan. He’s been shot. His dad was drunk and…” Greg hurriedly unlocked the door and pulled the two teens inside. The door was slammed shut and locked behind them.  
“What happened?” Greg asked as the two boys made their way to the living room sofa. 

“His dad came home early from his business trip. We were curled up on the sofa together asleep, when he started yelling and screaming about us being a couple of queers. He grabbed Stephan and started shaking him. I tried to make him let go but he pushed me off into the brick of the fireplace. He then pulled a gun and shoved Stephan to the ground before he shot him. The commotion woke his mom and she wrestled the gun from his dad before pulling it on him. She told us to leave as she was calling 999. I decided it would be safer to come back here.” Marcus babbled. 

“He did what!” Greg moved to check Stephan over, “We should get him to a hospital.”   
“No.” Mycroft pulled out his phone and began typing away.   
“He needs a doctor, Mycroft!” John yelled.  
“Indeed, Dr. Watson that is what I am working on. It would not do to have the son of a prominent politician end up in the hospital with a gunshot wound.”  
“That’s what you’re worried about, the man’s reputation?” John accused.   
“We came here because we were worried about the men that my father has been working with. We were being followed.” Stephan replied. 

“What exactly does your father do?” Greg asked.  
“He’s….ah…business man.” Stephan winced as he spoke.  
“Mr. Marceletti is a well-connected politician with ties to the mob.” Mycroft replied.   
“Jesus, Mycroft. The mob.” John cried.  
“Yes, John.” He answered, “There is a doctor on his way.” He pocketed his phone.  
“Thank you Mr. Holmes.” Stephan hissed with pain as he shifted again. John moved Greg out of the way and covered the teen’s wound with the tea towel from the table next to the sofa. Mycroft made a sound of protest but did not stop him. Greg grabbed Marcus’s arm and dragged him towards the Dining room. Mycroft followed, leaving John and Sherlock to tend to the other teen.

 

“Dad!” Marcus exclaimed.   
“What were you thinking, getting involved with that boy?” Greg asked, sitting the two of them down at the table.  
“That’s exactly what his father asked.” Marcus looked anywhere but at Greg.  
“I….I’m sorry….I was just so…. worried. I….I didn’t mean that I wasn’t ok with you and him. I…oh hell. I only meant his father…. He’s obviously into some bad stuff.” Greg struggled for words before deciding to take his son in his arms. He hugged the teen tightly.  
“I had no idea that he was into that stuff. I knew that he didn’t like the idea of his son being gay, but I never imagined that he would actually shoot him. I also knew that….” He stopped biting his lip. Greg pulled back to look him in the eyes.

“What….you also knew what?” Greg asked as Mycroft sat down across from the two. Marcus looked at Greg with fear.   
“He…He was beating on Stephan. Had been for some time.” The teen answered quietly.  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Greg asked.  
“He begged me not to. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t bring myself to betray his trust. He must have come to school with bruises a thousand times and every time I begged him to tell you, to let me tell you.” Tears began rolling down his face.   
“It’s not your fault, Marcus. I wish you would have told me.” Greg lifted his hand to wipe at the tears.

“We will no longer have to worry about Mr. Marceletti. It has been taken care of, he has been arrested and you have my personal assurance that he is gone from our lives forever.” Mycroft said, placing his phone on the table in front of him.  
“Mycroft! The doctor is here.” Sherlock called from the living room. Mycroft stood and made his way to the living room. When he entered, he found an elderly man in a tux accompanied by a young woman in a white lab coat.   
“Ah, Mr. Holmes I’m afraid that we will need to move the boy to a more solid surface, if I am to remove the bullet without causing more injury.” The elderly man was checking underneath the blood-soaked tea towels. “Dr. Watson, I may require some assistance.”   
“Right.” John replied. 

“Mr. Holmes the younger, if you will please help move the young man to…” He looked to Mycroft.  
“The dining room table.” He motioned with his hand. Sherlock and John grabbed under each of Stephan’s arms to help him to stand.   
“Careful now, boys.” The man said, following them into the dining room. Greg and Marcus stood away from the table as John and Sherlock eased Stephan onto it. They then proceeded to move all the chairs out of the way. The doctor shed his jacket and tie, before rolling up his sleeves.

“Greg, we should let the doctors do their work.” Mycroft nodded towards Marcus.  
“Right. Come on Marcus; let’s wait in the living room.” He put an arm around his son’s shoulders,   
“Sherlock, you coming?” Greg asked.   
“Why?” His question earned him a smack on the arm from John, who gave him a stern look. “Oh, alright.” Sherlock grumbled.

 

 

“Mr. Holmes. The good Dr. Watson and I have everything under control; the boy is in good hands.” Mycroft nodded and left the room. He passed through the living room and up the stairs to The Master bedroom. He pulled out his phone and started typing away. When he was done sending the message to his assistant, he sat on the bed and placed the phone aside. He let out a heavy sigh and covered his face with his hands as he lay back on the bed. The phone rang and Mycroft grabbed it without hesitating.   
“Holmes.” He answered shortly.  
“Mr. Marceletti was being transferred from NSY to our custody when he was shot by an unknown assailant. He is dead, Sir. His wife is in NSY custody. They believe that she is the one who had him killed; she excused herself to make a phone call while they were processing the crime scene at the Marceletti home.” Anthea explained. 

“What will happen to the Mrs.?” Mycroft asked, closing his eyes.  
“We are working on the transfer paperwork now. If she is lucky she will live through the night.”  
“Has there been some kind of threat made against her life?” Mycroft knew it was an obvious question.  
“Sir, you are aware of the family’s connection to the mob. We believe that they will make an attempt on her life to keep her quiet about her husband’s business dealings. We have also put a hold on the press release for the circumstances of Mr. Marceletti’s death.” She replied.  
“Very well, let’s try and keep as much information as we can out of the press. Also, I need you to clear my schedule for the next few weeks. I do not want any calls for anything less than a critical class 9. And I am going to need two non-government issued cars along with two of the usual cars you send.” Mycroft sat up and opened his eyes to find Greg standing in the doorway. 

“Will you be needing them right away, Sir?” Anthea asked.  
“The end of the week. We will be leaving London to spend a few days at the cottage; I think we have all earned a vacation to get some well-earned rest.” Mycroft locked eyes with Greg.   
“Shall I have DI Lestrade’s schedule cleared as well?” She inquired.   
“If you could. Thank you, Anthea.” He hung up the phone and set it aside. Greg closed the door and moved to stand in front of the weary man. Mycroft leaned into him, his head resting against Greg’s stomach. “Gregory.”

“Yes My.” He wrapped his arms around the man.  
“What is happening to us?” Mycroft snuggled closer.   
“We’re going to be fine, My.” Greg bent to kiss the top of his head.  
“Everything is falling apart and I have no idea how to fix any of it.”   
“We will do it together. Sherlock and John will help us and everything is going to be ok. You can’t control everything, My. No matter how much you may think you can, you are only….Well I was going to say human, but…” Mycroft let out a short laugh.   
“Thank you, Gregory.” Mycroft looked up at him.  
“You’re welcome, love.” He bent over further and placed a kiss on his lips, “When we go back downstairs I’ll check on Marcus, while you pop off and check on Salina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this chapter; I just started a new semester of college and life has been a little hectic. So, I will be posting Chapter four this week as well. 
> 
> And please let me know if there are any other tag's you would like me to add. the last thing I want to do is make anyone uncomfortable or feel unsafe. ~Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmes-Lestrade household decide to leave London. John gets some unexpected news- he is not pleased with Mycroft. This is the beginning of one big freaky family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any warnings for this chapter. I do however wish to address the issue of Mary-See end notes.
> 
> Please let me know if you think I should add any tag's. ~Thank you.

The next few days were very hectic for Mycroft. He had been at work since the day after the incident with Stephan’s father. He had spent a great deal of his time censoring the press and doing paperwork. He had also spent much of his time speaking with Mrs. Marceletti, who had indeed hired a man to kill her husband. It turned out she had been in correspondence with the mob. 

She had been informed that her husband was skimming money off of their profits; if she wanted her family to stay alive she would pay all of the money back. She did give them back all of what money she could find and proceeded to ask them to “whack” her husband. They agreed to, if it bought her silence in regards to all of her husband’s business affairs. No matter what threats Mycroft came up with she would not divulge any information about the family’s business with the mob. Not that he believed she would.

Mycroft had no choice but to send her to prison for hiring someone to kill her husband, but everyone knew those charges would not stick. Unfortunately the money laundering and conspiracy charges would. Mrs. Marceletti requested that all of her and the late Mr. Marceletti’s lands, titles, and money be transferred into her son’s name immediately. Mycroft complied because he didn’t feel that the young man should be punished for his parents’ mistakes. When everything was said and done, Mycroft was able to leave instructions for Anthea and return home.

***************************************************

When Mycroft arrived home he found the house strangely quiet. He deposited his umbrella in the stand next to the coat rack. He then proceeded to walk through the house, each room as empty as the last. He pulled out his phone and was about to call Gregory when he heard giggling coming from the pool room. 

He put his phone back in his pocket and walked in the direction of the sound. When he entered the pool room he was greeted with the sight of Greg, Sherlock, John, and the three teens splashing around in the pool, while Stephan sat in one of the patio chairs. Salina was in small dragon form and floating on a lounger, flicking at the water with her tail. 

“My! Thank god you’re home.” Greg swam towards the edge of the pool, hoisted himself out, and made his way towards the man. “Sherlock has been driving me mad.” When close enough he grasped Mycroft by the back of the neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.  
“Oh. God. My eyes. “ Sherlock screeched.   
“Oh, shut up you.” John sent water splashing up into Sherlock’s face.   
“So, when are you taking us away from here?” Greg asked, pulling away from the taller man and resting their foreheads together. 

“Soon….tomorrow. Anthea will send two cars and we will all retire to the cottage for the summer.” Mycroft replied.   
“Hey…. Love birds, you going to stand there and snog all day?” Sherlock asked.   
“Sherlock, do me a favor?” Mycroft smiled.  
“What?” The younger Holmes shot back.

 

“Please drown yourself, brother mine.” Mycroft turned on his heel, Greg in tow, and hastily rushed from the room.  
“God….You’re really going to do that now….in the middle of the day?” Sherlock yelled after them. He was then hit in the head with a beach ball. “Ow, who threw that?” Sherlock looked around furiously.  
“Come on, Sherlock. Let them alone and play with me.” Stephanie giggled, another beach ball in hand.

****************************************

The next morning Greg woke the teens at 5am. He prepared breakfast, coffee, and set the table. Mycroft gave him a quick kiss and took the offered coffee before sitting down at the table to read the morning newspaper. Sherlock and John were engaged in conversation with the two teen boys while Salina was talking quietly with Stephanie. 

Greg smiled at the sight as he walked into the dining room with breakfast. Mycroft put the paper aside as Greg placed a plate in front of him. Greg bestowed a kiss on his cheek before delivering the rest of breakfast. He then took his seat between Mycroft and Marcus. 

When they were done eating, there was a knock at the front door. Mycroft put up a hand to inform everyone to stay seated. He walked through the house to the door. When he opened it, Anthea was standing there with an envelope in her outstretched hand and typing on her phone with the other. Behind her he could see the two cars he had requested. 

“This is for Dr. Watson, Sir.” She said as her boss took the envelope. “He needs to sign those papers immediately, if he wants this matter taken care of.”  
“Of course. If you would wait in the living room.” Mycroft invited her in and closed the door behind her. She nodded, continuing to type away. Mycroft proceeded into the dining room. He set the envelope in front of John and sat back down. “When you are finished signing those divorce papers, John, please return them to Anthea. She is waiting in the living room.” John looked at him in shock.  
“Divorce papers?” He opened the envelope and took out the papers. He scanned them, Sherlock reading over his shoulder, before looking back at Mycroft. “Really? She’s going to give me custody of our daughter? She’s giving me everything?” He couldn’t believe it.

“She decided trying to fight it wasn’t worth her life.” Mycroft took a sip of his coffee.  
“What do you mean her life?” John asked.  
“You may have thought that the information she gave to you on that USB was destroyed, but I regret to inform you that it was not done before we had a chance to read it. You can thank Sherlock for that.” He placed his cup back on the table.  
“What was so important that you had to hand it over to your brother, Sherlock?” John turned to look at the man sitting next to him. Greg knew this was the beginning of a very awkward conversation.  
“Kids, why don’t you go and finish packing?” He suggested. Chairs slid across the wood floor as they stood and left the room. Greg cleared the plates and went into the kitchen.

“When she went freelance, she did some work for Moriarty.” Mycroft replied, looking down at the table.  
“What?” John hissed.  
“She betrayed her country, her friends, and us, John.” Sherlock whispered quietly.  
“She couldn’t have known who he was or what he was doing.” John knew he was only fooling himself with that statement.

“She was completely aware of whom she was working for and the consequences of doing so. She was in the business of finding out people’s dirty little secrets and selling them to the highest bidder. In this case that happened to be Moriarty. The information she provided him with was classified information regarding many of MI-5 and MI-6’s top secret operations. She is lucky that she has not been executed already.” Mycroft explained. 

“Executed!” John exclaimed, standing. His chair fell backwards, making a loud cracking noise when it hit the floor.  
“According to our laws, she is a traitor to her country. The penalty for which, is death. I negotiated with MI-5 and MI-6 to let her live if she agreed to give us every detail of her dealings with Moriarty and other known security threats.” Mycroft stood, “I also negotiated your divorce. You will have custody of your daughter and it will appear as if she has simply run off.”   
“What if I decide not to sign?” John asked, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath.  
“You will receive custody regardless, but you will remain married to a known traitor for the rest of your life.” He grabbed his coffee cup off the table and strode towards the kitchen.  
“You’re going to leak it to the papers then, is that what you’re saying?” John tried to control his rising anger.

“No, the information with remain private, but you will never be able to marry anyone else, whomever they may be.” He disappeared from the room.  
“This is…this is bloody ridiculous is what this is.” John said, looking to Sherlock.  
“Do you not want custody of your daughter, John?” Sherlock asked.  
“Of course I do. That’s hardly the question.” John retrieved his chair from the floor and sat back down, staring at the papers on the table. “I’ll never be able to tell her about her mum. She will ask, you know. Kids always ask, and in a situation like this…What do I do Sherlock?” John asked.  
“Sign the papers.” He replied flatly.

“And?”   
“And, you can tell her that her mum died or something.” Sherlock looked at John like he was asking the stupidest question he had ever heard.  
“Right.” John didn’t sound convinced as he shuffled through the pages to the ones he needed to sign. Sherlock handed him a pen. “It’s going to be like she never existed, like we were never in love.” John signed the papers furiously and placed them back in the envelope. He stood without a word and left the room to hand them back to Anthea. Sherlock sat at the table quietly. He steepled his hands in front of his face with eyes closed in the customary thinking pose. Mycroft came back into the room.

“He’s angry.”   
“An obvious statement, brother mine.” Sherlock snorted.  
“He will be safe.”  
“But not happy.” Sherlock opened his eyes.  
“Only time will tell, little brother. The two of you should go with Gregory in one car and I shall take the children in the other. A little space…” He sat down next to the younger Holmes.  
“You’re only saying that because you don’t want him to shoot you.” Sherlock sneered.  
“No. I am suggesting this, because I believe it will give me quality time with all of my children.”  
“All of your children. God, Mycroft what are you going on about?” Sherlock dropped his hands to look at his brother quizzically.

 

“Stephan’s mother has asked me to watch over him. Yes, technically by law he is an adult, but he is not yet ready to take on the responsibility of all that money.”  
“So, she made you the trust fund brigade, did she?” Sherlock leaned back in his chair.  
“I am only holding it for him until he is out of University or twenty-five. Whichever comes first.” Mycroft replied.

“Great. So now you have another teenager to look after. What’s next, Mycroft, going to adopt an orphanage?” Sherlock looked away in disgust.  
“No. I was not expecting a household of teenagers, Sherlock. Do you want me to turn Stephan out on the streets, or do you want to take him back to Baker Street?” Mycroft scoffed.  
“You’re trying to make up for Salina and it’s not going to work. You’ve lived by yourself for too long, and eventually the amount of people hanging around your flat is bound to drive you to madness.” Sherlock sneered.

“You underestimate my annoyance threshold.”  
“Really. Well then, I shall have to put in extra time and effort whilst at the cottage.” Sherlock smiled deviously.  
“Honestly, Sherlock. Can you not behave for….”  
“Mycroft, if you cannot take a joke like that then you’re going to have a hell of a time with a house full of teenagers.” Sherlock laughed.  
“After dealing with a child for the last twenty-five years I believe that I can handle a house full of teenagers with no problem.” Mycroft replied with a short laugh. Sherlock stuck out his tongue. “Thank you for making my point, little brother.” He reached for Sherlock and placed a hand on his shoulder as he stood. Sherlock slapped his hand away playfully.

********************************************

“Do you all have everything you need?” Greg asked, piling luggage into the boot of the car.   
“I think that’s everything.” John replied, as he hoisted his and Sherlock’s suitcase into the other car’s boot. Sherlock came running down the front steps, a large duffle bag in hand. Mycroft was last out the door, locking it behind him.   
“What about Stephan?” Marcus asked as he got in the car with his sister.  
“Anthea should be returning with him soon. He wanted to go home and grab some things before we left.” Greg replied. 

“Greg, would you mind driving Sherlock and John? I would like to spend some time with the children.” He held out his set of keys.  
“Sure.” Greg took the offered keys and held out his own.   
“M, were not kids. We’re all adults, yah know.” Stephanie giggled from the backseat of the first car.  
“Keep talking like that and no one will be convinced of that fact, Steph.” Marcus chided. Stephanie just laughed. 

“My, Anthea’s back.” Greg nodded his head in the direction of the sleek black car that pulled up in the drive. The back door opened and Mycroft’s assistant stepped out, followed by Stephan. Stephan moved to the back of the car and the boot opened. He pulled out a large maroon suitcase, and set it on the ground. Anthea closed the boot and climbed back into the car. The car then backed out of the drive and took off. 

“Sorry I’m late; had to grab some stuff.” Greg walked over and took the suitcase from him.  
“You really shouldn’t be lifting anything.” Greg said, as he placed the case in the boot of the first car and closed it. 

“I know, but I don’t like feeling helpless.” He replied, as Marcus got out of the first car and moved to hold the other boy.   
“If you keep this up, you’re going to injure yourself.” Marcus hugged Stephan around the middle and pulled him towards the back seat of the first car. Stephanie slid all the way over to make room for the two boys. Greg closed the door behind them and walked back to Mycroft’s side.  
“We should get going if we want to make it by dinner time.” Mycroft whispered in his ear. They parted and walked to each of the cars.

**********************************************

"Airport? Why are we at the airport?" Sherlock asked, looking out the window at the private jet on the tarmac.  
"It's all part of the plan, Sherlock." Greg replied.  
"What are you talking about, Grahm?" Sherlock asked as they climbed out of the car.  
"I thought we were going to the cottage?" John asked, as Greg walked around them to the boot of the car.   
"We are, I just never specified which cottage." Greg replied, lifting their suitcases out and setting them on the ground.

"So where are we going, then?" Sherlock asked, picked up his duffle bag and suitcases.  
"I’m not entirely sure. Once we’re in the air, I’m sure My will tell us."  
"You mean that you don’t even know where we’re going?" John asked, shocked.  
"Of course, we are being monitored. Why didn’t this occur to me earlier?" Sherlock whined.  
"You weren't paying attention, brother dear." Mycroft had exited his own car and was opening the boot to retrieve luggage. 

"So if we’re not going to the cottage, where are we going, Mycroft?" John asked as he took his luggage from Greg.  
"Think of it as a surprise." Mycroft replied. Stephanie, Marcus, and Stephan clambered out of the back seat. The boys moved to the rear of the car while Stephanie helped Salina out of the front seat of the car.   
“You’re being very cryptic, and I don’t like it.” Sherlock replied.   
“Have you known him to be anything else?” John asked, elbowing Sherlock in the ribs. 

“Come along now. We do not have all day to waste, Sherlock.” Mycroft took ahold of his and Greg’s luggage and ascended the stairs of the private jet. The two teen boys followed with their own suitcases; Marcus helping Stephan up the stairs and Salina aided by Stephanie. The inside of the jet was very spacious with seats made of tan leather. It had more than enough room for everyone to be very comfortable. Once they were up in the air and Sherlock had finished snooping around, Mycroft revealed their destination.

 

“France! Why in the world are we going to France?” Sherlock asked.   
“We are going to the French countryside for a holiday.” Mycroft replied from the seat across from the younger Holmes.   
“Why?” Sherlock tilted his head in confusion. “You don’t know anyone, besides politicians, in France.”   
“My parents! We’re going to visit the farm?” Greg asked excitedly.   
“Indeed. I thought the children might be pleased to spend some time with their grandparents.” Mycroft said with a small smile. 

“Oh, M. That’s so sweet.” Stephanie cooed from the seat behind Sherlock’s.   
“Please kill me now.” Sherlock sighed, looking at John, who was seated on the sofa adjacent to them.  
“It’s ok Lockie, I think you’re sweet.” Salina replied, patting his leg in comfort. John had difficulty suppressing his laughter at the incredulous look on Sherlock’s face. The others in the cabin did not.   
“I hate you all.” He pouted.   
“No you don’t. You love us.” Stephanie laughed.  
“No, I’m quite sure I do.”   
“Sense of humor, brother mine.” Mycroft chided.   
“Oh, shut up.” Sherlock lowered his eyes to the table in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't see her as an evil character and I'm not going to kill her off. In this story (behind the scenes) she has willingly left John after they both came to the same conclusion: John is in love with Sherlock. Mary is pregnant (explained within this story). Her involvement in the plot will be revealed later on. 
> 
> Please do not leave any comments regarding ship-hate~Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the villain. Some of you may have seen Being Human (UK), thus you might recognize a character or two...I shall say no more, or I will reveal too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rater brief, so I will try and upload chapter 6 sometime later this week; school and work, permitting.

In a long dark hallway, the hurried clicking of shoes on floor reverberates off the stone of the walls. The young vampire clutched a stack of papers tightly as he rushed to meet his master. He stopped in front of two large doors. He hesitated before entering, nervous that the information he carried would upset his master in the worst of ways. 

He took a deep breath and opened the doors. He held his breath as he stepped in and the doors closed behind him. There was a quiet murmur of voices from across the room. He let out the breath he had been holding, and waited to be acknowledged. After a few minutes of going unnoticed he made a point of clearing his throat to call attention to his presence. The voices stopped. 

“Well?” his master asked in a bored tone.   
“I’ve found her.” The young vampire replied.  
“And?” His master asked expectantly.   
“She…..she’s….in Eng…..land.” He stuttered.   
“England. How appropriate.” He sneered, revealing a smile full of grime-covered teeth.   
“She….”  
“If you’re going to give me a report, do so without stuttering like an imbecile.” His master’s smile faded.   
“Right.” He paused and collected his thoughts. “She made it back to her family.”  
“She made it home to daddy. How sweet.” The smile appeared once again. 

“My sources tell me that she has no memory of what happened while she was in our….while she was your guest. They also tell me that the kidnapping was blamed on a “human”, who was killed in the raid of the warehouse. We have since retrieved the body so it cannot be traced back to us.” He elaborated. 

“And what has become of my agent who was supposed to be looking after her?” He asked.  
“We haven’t heard anything from him since the week before the raid.” The young vampire replied.  
“He didn’t happen to mention the fact that he let her escape and was chasing her across Europe?” His tone suggested that he was being sarcastic, but his face suggested that he was unamused. 

“No. He reported that everything was under control.” The young vampire explained, trying to keep himself from being blamed for the whole incident. His master stood in silence as he pondered his next move.   
“Cutler, you will contact Lord Moran and secure our safe passage to England. Don’t forget to inform him that we will require proper accommodations.” He informed the young vampire.  
“Right away, Master.” Cutler bowed before turning and making a quick exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the scattered updates, but an new semester of school has just started and I'm trying to balance that with my work schedule. I will endeavor to update at least once a week.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> France: We meet Greg's parents; who are wonderful loving people. This chapter includes a little angst, some fluff, family bonding, some magic, and Sherlock being Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of magic & soul-mates, Shape shifting- Dragon & fox, and horrible pun's (t.v. references).

{FRANCE}

The plane landed a short while later. They took two cars and drove a few hours to the countryside. The farm was large and some distance from any neighbors. As everyone piled out of the car, Greg’s parents exited the quaint farm house. 

“Greg, my boy! It’s so good to see you.” His father pulled him into a hug.  
“You too, dad.” He replied hugging the older man tighter. The two men moved apart. “Dad, Mum. This is Mycroft and his daughter Salina.” He gestured to the taller man beside him, then to the young lady behind him, “his brother Sherlock, and Sherlock’s…friend, John.” He motioned towards the two other men. “You know Stephanie and Marcus, and this is Marcus’s boyfriend, Stephan.” 

“Oh yes, Mycroft and I talked on the phone. I was so happy to get his call asking if the lot of you could come and stay here for a while. Your father and I have been looking forward to seeing the children for so long.” Greg’s mother smiled as she moved to hug Mycroft, who went completely rigid as she wrapped her arms around him. “Don’t worry my boy, I won’t bite.” She smiled, stepping back. 

“But he might.” Sherlock mumbled.   
“I heard that, young man.” Greg’s mother chided. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.   
“Rosy, why don’t you ask them inside?” Greg’s father insisted as he hugged his son.   
“Oh hush, Henry.” She turned to the teens, “Why don’t you all come inside and make yourselves comfortable?” Marcus and Stephan were the first inside the house, followed by Salina and Stephanie, and then the adults.   
“Rosy just put the kettle on if you would like some tea.” Henry said, sitting down at the kitchen table.   
“Greg, dear, why don’t you show the children where they will be staying?” Rosy asked, setting the table. 

“Right, upstairs with you all.” Greg ushered the teens out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs. Greg’s parents then turned their attention to John, Sherlock, and Mycroft.   
“So, Mycroft. What is it that you do for a living?” Henry asked. Sherlock snorted in amusement. “What?” He looked towards the younger Holmes.   
“I hold a minor position in the British Government.” Mycroft gave his standard reply.   
“Right, so are you MI-5 or MI-6?” Henry smirked as he took a sip of the tea that Rosy had placed before him. 

“Not easily fooled, are you?” John asked.   
“Nope.” Henry placed the cup back on the table.   
“Others may think what they like, but I could not possibly comment.” Mycroft replied.  
“Big fan of House o’ Cards, are yah?”   
“I’m Sorry?” Mycroft looked at Henry with confusion.   
“I don’t think he gets the reference, dear.” Rosy interjected as she placed a cup of tea in front of Mycroft.  
“You’re referring to Francis Urquhart, if I’m not mistaken.” Mycroft replied.  
“I was. What you said was almost a direct quote.”  
“Indeed. Where do you think he acquired the phrase?” Mycroft smirked.

 

“Really?” Asked John.  
“Of course not! Mycroft is just being a git. Nothing new there.” Sherlock scoffed.   
“Alright boys, that’s enough. I will have you all behave like gentlemen whilst here.” Rosy said, giving Sherlock a stern look.   
“Good luck to you Mrs. Lestrade.” John said, lifting his cup in salute. Mycroft hid his smile as he took another sip of tea.   
“He started it.” Sherlock stuck his tongue out at the elder Holmes.

“I’m finishing it.” Henry said. “So do any of the children like to ride?” Sherlock perked up at this.   
“Ride?” John asked.   
“Sherlock and I rode when we were younger. As for the children, I could not answer.” Mycroft replied.   
“Are we talking about horses?’ John asked.  
“Yes. We have some fine horses in the stables, if any of you would like to take a tour of the farm while you’re here.” Henry offered.   
“I’m afraid that horses are quite sensitive when it comes to Dragons.” Mycroft answered, much to Sherlock’s disappointment. 

“Oh, not to worry. They are used to a variety of shifters.” Rosy assured.   
“What about Vampires?” Sherlock shot out.   
“Vampires!” Henry sputtered.  
“Sherlock!” Mycroft hissed.  
“What!” He tried to look innocent.  
“I apologize. He can be a bit tactless at times.” Mycroft sighed.  
“It’s your daughter, isn’t it?” Rosy asked.  
“Yes. Though I had hoped to address the subject in a more pleasant way.” Mycroft placed his cup back on the table.

“It’s fine. We understand, don’t we, Henry?”   
“I never said it was a problem. I was just a little shocked.” He looked back at Mycroft. “Am I correct in assuming that her father was a vampire as well?”   
“Yes.” Mycroft answered slowly.   
“How did you figure that out?” Sherlock asked.   
“It was just a feeling, to be honest.” Henry said.   
“You mean Grahm told you!” Sherlock accused.  
“Greg!” Mycroft and John interrupted. 

“What! What did I do now?” Greg asked, walking back into the room.  
“Nothing, love.” Mycroft replied, placing a chaste kiss on Greg’s lips.  
“That’s disgusting.” Sherlock gagged.   
“Like you and John don’t kiss.” Greg replied.  
“Never!” John and Sherlock said together. 

“Methinks the gentlemen doth protest too much.” Henry laughed. John blushed and looked down at the cup in front of him. Sherlock just looked lost.   
“Grandpa Henry, can we go for a walk around the farm?” Stephanie asked. Henry looked towards Greg, who just shrugged and looked at Mycroft.  
“Is Salina going with you?” Mycroft asked.  
“I would say yes, but she disappeared shortly after we started unpacking upstairs.” Stephanie answered.  
“What!” Mycroft replied.  
“We were going to go look for her.” Marcus replied.  
“Without telling us?” Greg asked.  
“Well, we would have told you, but we didn’t want you to worry.” Marcus replied.  
“You’ve done a great job of not worrying everyone.” Sherlock jibed. Mycroft stood and walked to the front door. He opened it and walked outside. They heard a large whoosh sound before the door swung shut. 

“Mycroft!” Greg yelled after him. He ran towards the door, Sherlock and John right behind him. When they exited the house, Mycroft was nowhere to be found.   
“Where did he go?” Greg asked.  
“He took dragon form. He’s taken to the sky to look for Salina.” Sherlock replied.   
“What should we do?” John asked.   
“We’ll do a ground search.” Greg replied.   
“You boys go with the children and search the fields, Rosy will stay here, and I will check the stables.” Henry said. 

“Right, come on Sherlock.” John grabbed the younger Holmes’ arm and started pulling him towards the pastures. Greg shifted into his silver fox form. He then ran past Sherlock and John. Stephanie followed suit and shifted into a sandy-colored fox. Marcus and Stephan stayed behind in the house with Rosy.   
As Greg and his group walked through the fields they could see Mycroft circling the sky above. 

“Sherlock, you should help your brother; search from above. I’ll stay with Greg and Stephanie.” John said. Sherlock nodded and walked behind one of the out buildings. He proceeded to remove his clothing in preparation of shifting into this dragon form. He folded the fabric neatly into a pile to avoid wrinkles before crouching down and beginning to shift. Once in full dragon form he pushed off and took to the sky. John stared in awe of his flat mate; the strength and beauty of Sherlock’s wings blew him away.

***************************************************

Henry walked towards the stables. When he reached the door, he found it to be unlocked and slightly ajar. Henry pulled the door open quietly and stepped inside. He heard the soft tell-tale sound of crying. He looked inside of each stall for signs of where the noise was coming from. The horses didn’t seem too bothered by the presence of whatever or whoever was with them. There was a soft naying from one of the horses at the other end of the stables. Henry slowly inched his way towards the noise and the sound became more distinct. In the last stall he found his eldest mare nudging a crouched figure. 

“Salina?” Henry asked. The figure raised her head.   
“Who’s there?” she answered, scooting backwards until her back hit the wall.   
“It’s Henry, Greg’s father. We’re all very worried about you. Why did you run off?” Henry asked, crouching down in front of her. “Why don’t you come back with me?”   
“I can’t. I can’t go back. It’s too much.” She replied, tears streaming down her face.   
“What’s too much?” Henry asked.  
“This, all of it. Family.” She choked out.   
“What about family?” Henry moved closer.   
“Mycroft, he thinks I hate him. I don’t remember anything. I….what if I do and….I don’t want t….to.” she started sobbing louder. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Your father doesn’t think that. You should have seen him when Stephanie told us you were gone. He went paler than paper and took off for the door. He’s out there now, flying through the sky looking for you.” Henry reached forward and took her hand gently, as not to frighten her. “And I think that, if you don’t wish to remember whatever memory it is that you think will take this family away from you, you have every right to do so.” Henry said. 

“Really?” She wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her sweater, like a child.   
“Yes. Your father loves you, and I believe that if your memory does not return, no one will think less of you for it.” Henry stood, still holding her hand. “Now, why don’t we go back to the house and I’ll have Rosy make you some tea.”

“Ok.” Salina held tight to his hand as he helped her to stand. Henry led her out of the stables. They were walking along the path back towards the house when Stephanie came running towards them. She shifted mid stride and almost fell on her face.   
“Salina!” Stephanie yelled as she ran. “Everyone’s been so worried. We thought something really terrible had happened to you.”   
“I’m fine.” Salina replied.  
“You’ve been crying.” Stephanie said, looking at Salina’s tear-stained cheeks.  
“Have I?” Salina wiped at her face. 

“Stephanie! Oh, thank god you found her.” Greg said, walking up behind his daughter.   
John came racing towards them, Sherlock in small dragon form trailing behind him. Greg turned to see them just in time to be hit square in the chest by Sherlock. He was knocked to the ground by the force.   
“Thank you Lestrade, the amount of food you’ve been stuffing yourself with has broken my fall.” Sherlock sneered, jumping off Greg’s chest and onto the ground.   
“Damn you Sherlock!” Greg groaned as he stood up. 

“Ow.” Sherlock cried out after John poked him in the side. “What was that for?” Before John could answer, there was a loud sound of air being forced against the Earth. They all looked up to see Mycroft in his dragon form descending from the sky. He shifted as soon as his feet touched the ground. It was a smooth and graceful transformation; elegance at its best.   
“You found her.” Mycroft walked past Sherlock and John.   
“Stating the obvious.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Salina just wanted some time alone. Think she felt a little overwhelmed.” Henry replied.  
“I’m sorry.” Salina lowered her head in nervous apology. Mycroft moved to stand directly in front of her.  
“No.” He whispered, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. “If anyone understands the need to be alone, it is I.” He whispered. She buried her face in his chest and mumbled something unintelligible. “I didn’t quite understand what you said.” Mycroft took a step back, but still kept ahold of her. 

“I do not wish to remember.” She replied. He looked at her with a slightly pained expression.   
“If you wish.” He nodded.   
“You’re not angry?” She asked.   
“No.” He said, stepping back. “Let’s go back inside.”  
“Alright.” She replied with a weak smile. Mycroft returned it with a small smile of his own, before turning around and heading towards the house. Greg, John, and Sherlock followed. Stephanie walked up to Salina.   
“Want to walk back together?” She asked.  
“If you want.”   
“Great. You coming, Grandpa Henry?” Stephanie asked.  
“Lead on, ladies.” He smiled.

Salina followed Stephanie down the trail, several steps behind the others. Halfway back to the house Stephanie reached out and clasped Salina’s hand in her own. The touch was like a shock of electricity between the two of them. Salina stopped in her tracks and gasped. Stephanie tried to pull away, thinking that she may have caused the other girl pain, Salina only tightened her grip. 

“Wait, don’t let go.” Salina’s eyes widened.   
“Why, what is it? Did you feel that?”   
“Yes, I felt it.” Salina looked around her, “I can see.”  
“What?” Stephanie looked at her with an expression of bewilderment.   
“I can see, but…not with my own eyes?”   
“You mean that you can see through my eyes?” Stephanie asked in shock and amazement.  
“Yes.” Salina laughed, tears once again flowing from her eyes.

“How? Why are you crying?”  
“I don’t know, magic possibly….You’re looking at me.”  
“Yes I am.” Stephanie tilted her head this way and that.   
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been able to properly look at myself?” Salina brought her other hand up to her face.   
“I believe you were around five years old.” Mycroft spoke from behind them. Stephanie turned in his direction, which allowed Salina to see her father for the first time since this whole thing started. 

“You’re….” She started.   
“Tall, fat, ginger, and ugly. Just like I said.” Sherlock interrupted, once again in his human form.   
“And you’re skinny, pale, and obnoxious with unruly curls.” Salina shot back.  
“So you can see?” Greg asked, moving to stand next to Mycroft.   
“Yes. Though I have to say you do not look anything like I pictured in my head.” Salina replied. The girl beside her giggled.   
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Greg asked. 

“How is this possible? That’s the question you should be asking.” Sherlock said.  
“I believe it must be a bond of some kind. Magic this powerful can only occur between two people who share a strong emotional understanding.” Mycroft replied.  
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Sherlock scoffed.   
“Shut up, Sherlock.” John whispered harshly.

“It is rare that two people share a bond so strong that they can produce such powerful magic. Never have I heard of it occurring between two different species of shifter before.” Henry explained.   
“We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, how can we possibly share a bond like this?” Salina asked.  
“The only explanation I have is that, Stephanie possesses a level of empathy that you, on a deeper level, respond to.” Henry explained.

 

“Like soul mates?” Stephanie asked, her grip tightening around the hand in her own.   
“You could think of it that way, yes.” Henry agreed.   
“That’s disgusting.” Sherlock responded.   
“Not like that, you idiot! He means they’re like best friends forever, only literally.” John rolled his eyes.   
“Yes, please do get your head out of the proverbial gutter, Sherlock.” Mycroft sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I know I promised you two chapters this week, so here is chapter six.
> 
> Please; again I cannot stress enough how important it is to me that my readers let me know if I have been remiss in my tagging. You are all lovely people. ~Thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft embark on a little payback...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update. I've been terribly ill the last two weeks. Chapter 7 is all fun and games.

Around ten-thirty, three of the four teens managed to drag themselves downstairs for breakfast.   
“Good morning sleepyheads.” Rosey smiled.  
“Morning, Gran.” They replied.  
“What’s for breakfast?” Marcus asked as they sat down at the table.   
“Marcus, look at the plate in front of you. I think even you could deduce the answer to that question.” Stephanie replied.  
“I don’t care what it is, as long as it’s edible.” Marcus replied, picking up his fork. Stephan slapped him ‘round the back of the head.   
“Have a little more respect for your Gran.” Stephan chided.  
“Boys, behave.” Rosey warned.

“Where’s dad?” Stephanie asked.  
“Oh, they went for a walk.” Rosey answered.  
“In other words they’re…..”Marcus started.  
“Your father, Mycroft, John, Sherlock, and your granddad are out for a walk. Together.” Rosey interrupted.

“What’s going on?” Salina walked into the dining room/kitchen, holding onto the doorframe. Stephanie stood from her seat and moved to assist the young dragon to the table.  
“Just breakfast with the kids.” Rosy answered.

“Food…” Salina replied, inhaling deeply though her nose. Using Stephanie’s sight, the two girls quickly walked over to the table. Salina scooted into the booth next to Marcus, and pulled his plate in front of her; keeping a firm grip on Stephanie’s hand.  
“Geez. Somebody’s hungry.” Marcus yelped as Salina stole the fork out of his hand as well. 

“Let her alone, you. Poor thing didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday.” Rosey said, petting Salina’s hair as she placed another plateful of food in front of Marcus.  
“Thank you, Rosey.” Salina smiled.  
“You’re very welcome, sweetie. So, what are you lot up to, today?” Rosey asked.  
“Don’t know.” Marcus answered, taking a drink of milk.

“Well, Salina and I are going to try and fly today.” Stephanie answered.  
“We are?” Salina asked, around a mouth full of food.  
“Yep. We’re going to see if that connection works when you’re in dragon form. It’ll be fun.” Stephanie replied.

“Not sure this is a completely thought-out plan, sis.” Marcus replied.  
“Can I help?” Stephan asked, looking up from his plate.  
“Sure. That would be great.” Stephanie beamed.  
“Cool.” Stephan said, returning to his breakfast.

 

******************************************************

“So, Sherlock seems to be enjoying himself.” Greg laughed.  
“Indeed, he and John seem to be closer.” Mycroft replied.  
“Lil shit keeps shifting and running around in dragon form. Scared the life out of Rosey and Da this morning.” Greg shook his head.  
“Yes, he always has enjoyed acting like a child.” Mycroft smirked.  
“Want to teach him a lesson?” Greg grinned devilishly.  
“Oh, Gregory. I hope you are not suggesting what I think you are.” Mycroft smiled widely.

“You know I am; would serve him right, too.” Greg laughed.  
“I do not move about in such a frivolous manner whilst in dragon form.” Mycroft scoffed.  
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” Greg pleaded, his eyes going wide and dewy.  
“Oh, all right, if it will stop you from looking at me with those sad puppy dog eyes.” Mycroft replied.  
“Yes. Come on, it will be fantastic. Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” Greg’s smile grew. Mycroft smiled back.

*********************************************************

“Sherlock! Look out!” John yelled, as a large silver fox went dashing by his legs and headed straight for the younger Holmes. Greg chuckled internally. Sherlock whipped around just in time to be hit by Greg. The silver fox wrestled with the young black dragon before releasing him. Sherlock ran like the devil, Greg hot on his heels. 

"What is your problem, Lestrade?" He panted as he ran.   
Greg just yipped in response. A loud whooshing noise sounded over their heads as Mycroft swooped down and plucked the little black dragon from the ground. Sherlock began flailing around, desperate to get away.   
"Let me go, you git!" Sherlock yelled, as they flew higher and farther away.  
"Not until you have learned your lesson, little brother." Mycroft replied, smiling to himself. He was quite pleased that Greg had suggested this; teaching his brother a lesson about being a pest. Turnabout was fair play, after all. 

Below, Greg shifted back to his clothed human form. He began to laugh like mad at the sight of the two brothers. John tried to hide his amusement at the situation, but eventually joined Greg in laughter.   
"Anyone else wish they had a camera?" John asked, as Henry came riding up on the back of the elder mare.   
"This isn’t a common sight, I take it?" Henry remarked.   
"No. Usually they just exchange insults and death glares; though I don’t know which one frightens me the most." John replied.

"I see." Henry replied with a smile.   
"So what is Mycroft's plan?" John asked.  
"Not really sure, but you must admit we did catch Sherlock by surprise. Not like he doesn’t deserve it." Greg said, watching as Mycroft began to turn around and come back towards them.

 

"Let me go, you giant oaf!" Sherlock yelled from the clutches of the larger dragon.  
"Very well." Mycroft opened his claws, and let Sherlock drop a few feet to the ground. The elder Holmes then glided downwards, shifting only a few centimeters from the earth, back into his human form. Once again he landed with grace and agility. He smiled down at the younger Holmes, who was spread out on the dirt.  
"I said let go, not drop me, you stupid sod." Sherlock moaned, rubbing his backside.  
"Really Sherlock, you were barely one meter off the ground. You could have easily shifted and landed safely. I do hope you have learned your lesson about surprising people." Mycroft smiled tilting his head to the side and raising one eyebrow. 

"You're a right git, you know that." Sherlock replied, standing up.  
"So you said many times." Mycroft shook his head. Sherlock stepped forward in challenge before shrugging and turning his back on the lot of them.   
"Oh come on, Sherlock. It was just a prank." Greg called after him.  
"I don’t think he saw it that way." John said, turning to chase after the genius.

"Well, that could have gone better." Greg replied.  
"He's fine. I bet he's already planning a way to get the both of you back." Henry chuckled.   
"Right. We should go and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid." Greg sighed.  
"I'll see you boys back at the house then." Henry replied, guiding the horse back to the stables. 

Mycroft looked at Greg.  
"I did tell you that this would not go well." He said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  
"He'll get over it." Greg stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Mycroft's middle. He kissed the taller man’s neck in a gesture of comfort.   
"We should be getting back." Mycroft breathed, taking Greg's hand in his.   
"Right." Greg stepped away and Mycroft opened his eyes. He turned to look at Greg.  
"Walk with me." Mycroft still held onto his hand.

"Sherlock!" John yelled, chasing after the detective.   
"Hurry up, John." He called back. Mycroft looked behind him to see his younger brother, in his human form, coming straight towards them. Sherlock kept walking until he was face-to-face with his brother; their noses just inches apart.

"Yes, brother mine?" Mycroft asked, arching an eyebrow.  
"I....I...John says..." Sherlock started.  
"Sherlock." John growled.  
"Fine....Yes...I...."Sherlock gritted his teeth.  
"Apology accepted." Greg smiled. A look of relief washed over Sherlock's face as he continued to stare at his brother. 

"Good, now apologize to your brother." John crossed his arms.  
"Fine! I'm sorry for being a brat." Sherlock hissed.  
"Very well. I hope you have learned a valuable lesson, and that John will not be required to make you apologize in the future." Mycroft whispered.  
"Yes. I learned that you, brother mine, are still a complete and utter git even whilst shifted." He whispered back.  
"I must say it is good to know that you did not injure your head in that fall, brother mine." Mycroft smiled.  
"Sherlock, the purpose of an apology is not to insult the person you are saying you're sorry to." Greg interrupted.  
"I hate you and your boyfriend." Sherlock hissed.  
"Sherlock!" John scolded.   
"What!" Sherlock snarled turning to face John.  
"Try again, and this time, be nice and sincere about it." John replied. Sherlock pouted before turning back around.

 

"What ever happened to us?" Sherlock asked.  
"Time. It was always our enemy, little brother." Mycroft replied.  
"You left. I was all alone. No one, not even our parents, understood me." Sherlock whispered, almost inaudible.   
"I am sorry, Sherlock." He moved forward to embrace the younger Holmes.  
"You are far too sentimental, Mycroft." Sherlock snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this chapter is kinda short, I'm going to upload chapter 8 this week as well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragic event leads the family back to London. (this takes place about a month after the last chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let you know (reminder) that the events throughout this story take place over a long period of time. The whole story (from chapter one of part 3 all the way through the end) takes place over the span of a year-ish.

"Stephan, I'm afraid that I have some bad news." Mycroft said.  
"What kind of bad news?" He asked.  
"It's about your mother." He replied.  
"What happened?" Stephan squawked.  
"She's been murdered. I am so sorry." Mycroft stepped closer and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.  
"Murdered. What the hell, Mycroft! You were supposed to protect her!" Greg yelled.

"Don't blame M, Greg. It was only a matter of time before someone got to her." Stephan sighed. "She   
knew too much about my father’s work. Why do you think that she made M my guardian?"   
"You knew she was going to die?" Greg asked.  
"I didn’t know how or when, but I did know that they wouldn’t want any loose ends." Stephan shook his head. "I should have known that she would bargain my life for hers." A tear began to make its way down his cheek. Greg pulled the young man into a hug.  
"You don’t have to go through this alone. You have a family right here. We won’t let anything happen to you. Will we, My?" Greg looked to his lover.  
"You are safe. I doubt they will come after you; but if they do then they will have a surprise waiting."   
Mycroft replied.

"Thank you, M." The boy sniffled through his tears. "Will there be a service?"   
"In a few days’ time. I assume that you would like to attend."  
"Please. She might not have stood up against father, but she was still my mum." Stephan said, stepping out of Greg’s embrace.

 

*****************************************RETURN TO LONDON**********************

Sherlock and John returned to 221B, while Greg and the teens returned to Mycroft’s flat. 

“Oh, John dear, there is a young lady upstairs. She’s got a baby with her.” Mrs. Hudson cooed as the two men started up the stairs.   
“What?” John asked, climbing the stairs quickly, Sherlock trailing not far behind. When they entered the flat there was indeed a young woman holding a baby in her arms.   
“Anthea? What are you doing here?” John asked.   
“I was informed that you would be returning to London today, and that I was to deliver little Miss Amilia Watson for her father.” She smiled. 

“Amilia Wa…My daughter?” John gasped, stepping forward to take the baby from Anthea.  
“She’s all yours, John Watson.” Anthea placed the baby into her father’s arms. John looked at his daughter with an expression of awe.   
“She’s beautiful.” John smiled.   
“There are bags in the kitchen on the table; they contain a few weeks’ supply.” She nodded and made her way out of the flat. 

 

“Just look at her, Sherlock.” John said, trying to show his flat mate the baby. Sherlock wasn’t paying attention; he was in the kitchen inspecting the bags of baby supplies. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he stormed out of the flat. John just smiled. A few hours later Sherlock returned, carrying a large box upstairs.   
“You’re back.” John smiled from where he was sitting in his chair; his sleeping daughter cradled to his chest. Sherlock walked over to his own chair, and set the box down before sinking to his knees beside it. 

“What’s with the box, Sherlock?” John asked.  
“Stuff.” Came a short reply.  
“Stuff. What kind of stuff?” John hated asking stupid questions like this because he was in fact, not stupid. Sherlock didn’t answer; he only opened the box and began pulling things out. “What is all that?”

“Toys, my toys.” He said.   
“Your toys? Why?” John asked.   
“Honestly, John?” Sherlock fixed the man with a look.   
“For Amilia?” John smiled.  
“Yes. I thought…” Sherlock sat back on his heels.   
“You thought what?” John frowned.   
“Never mind.” Sherlock began gathering the items he had taken out and put them back into the box. 

“No. Talk to me, Sherlock.” John pleaded. “What are you thinking?” Sherlock hung his head.   
“I wanted to give…” Sherlock started.  
“You wanted to give Amilia something from your childhood?” John gave a small, affectionate smile.   
“Yes.” He replied with a whisper. John stood and placed the baby into the basinet next to their chairs. Nice of Anthea to provide one, thought John. He figured it was probably more Mycroft’s doing than anything else. Once Amilia was settled comfortably, John moved to sit next to the taller man. He put one hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and the other on the edge of the box. It was filled with all kinds of different items.   
“These are wonderful, Sherlock.” John smiled, looking back at the man. Sherlock gave a weak smile in return. 

 

*************************************************The Next Day**********

 

“So…I got a call from John this morning.” Greg smiled over the rim of his coffee mug.   
“Oh, and what did our dear Dr. Watson have to say?” Mycroft asked cheekily.   
“Something about finding a beautiful woman with a baby in the living room of 221B.” Greg replied.  
“Did he now?” He replied, not looking up from the morning paper.   
“He also wanted to thank said beautiful woman for the lovely basinet and supplies.” Greg smirked.  
“I will be sure to pass along his thanks.” Mycroft replied.

“John also told me that Sherlock left Baker Street for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon and returned with a box full of old childhood toys.”   
“Indeed.” Came Mycroft’s short reply.  
“And of course, you had nothing to do with that.”   
“You will find that Mummy brought the box with her upon her last visit; per Sherlock’s request of course.” Mycroft answered, setting the paper aside.   
“Really. The little git was that excited about John having a baby?” Greg asked, smiling fondly at the thought of Sherlock becoming ecstatic over something that didn’t involve dead bodies.   
“If I recall, Dr. Watson said something about moving back into Baker Street permanently. Thus, my little brother has the notion that he and Dr. Watson will be raising said child together.”  
“That goes without saying. You don’t think John and Sherlock can raise a child together?” 

“I feel that Sherlock may be under the illusion that he and John are going to become… ‘mates’.” He paused. “My brother has always related better to children than adults. That being said, I do not believe there is any reason they could not raise the child together.” The subtext of ‘should not’ hung in the air between them.

“You just don’t want him getting hurt if John decides to move on.” Greg finished for him.   
“Quite.”  
“I think we should let those two sort stuff out on their own, yeah.” Greg suggested, placing a hand on his lover’s arm.  
“I think that would be wise.” Mycroft smiled, picking up the monogramed tea cup Stephanie had given him for his birthday.

“Really?” Greg looked at him with a shocked expression.  
“Yes.”  
“I didn’t think you could help but to meddle in your brother’s life.”  
“This is something he needs to sort out on his own. I have done enough ‘meddling’, as you so eloquently put it.”   
“Good. We have enough to worry about, with a house full of teenagers.” Greg replied, kissing his lover’s cheek.

 

*************************************A Few Days Later****************************

 

“You did a fantastic job converting my old room into a nursery. I am curious though…” John smiled as he entered the living room; Mrs. Hudson was sitting in John’s chair cradling ‘The little darling’, while Sherlock was in the kitchen…cleaning.  
“What?” Sherlock blushed when he saw the disbelieving look on the shorter man’s face.   
“Nothing. I was just wondering about your taste in wallpaper.” John teased. 

“You didn’t like it?” Sherlock asked.  
“I didn’t say that.”  
“I think it’s adorable.” Mrs. Hudson chimed. John smiled at the older woman before turning back to Sherlock.  
“Why bees, though?” John asked, stepping closer to the other man.  
“I like them, and I didn’t think you would appreciate it if I picked skulls, or something.” Sherlock shrugged.

 

“No. Bees are fine. I think they’re cute.” John blushed, putting a hand on the other man’s arm. Sherlock looked from the hand to his friend’s face multiple times.   
“You’ll stay?” He asked.   
“You thought I would leave because you chose bees as an appropriate choice to decorate a child’s room?” John chuckled.   
“I’m not good at sentiment.” Sherlock whispered, looking away.

“I know that you’re good with kids. I saw the way you interacted with Mary’s friend’s son; and the way you’ve bonded with Greg’s kids since his divorce. You relate to them, better than you do most adults.”   
“Well, children are not complete morons. They have yet to be corrupted by society’s stupidity.” Sherlock replied.  
“In other words, you like them.” John challenged.  
“Fine! Yes, I like them!” Sherlock answered, throwing his hands up into the air in defeat. 

“And you like Amilia?” Mrs. Hudson asked, walking into the kitchen.  
“Stupid question.” Sherlock mumbled.   
“He says yes, Mrs. Hudson.” John chuckled, stepping forward to take the baby from her. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
“I’m expected for a late lunch with friends. I’ll see you boys and the little one later.” She giggled as she left to go back downstairs. 

“Would you like to hold her, Sherlock?” John offered.  
“I’m….” He looked around, appearing quite lost. “Um….wash my hands.” He turned to the sink and began scrubbing away.  
“I was surprised to see you cleaning up your experiments. I didn’t think you would do it without my having to ask.” John nodded at the partially cleared table, as Sherlock dried his hands. “Living room; it will be easier if you’re sitting.” 

“I’ve held a baby before, John.”  
“I realize that, but it would just make me more comfortable if we were sitting.” He had walked into the living room and towards the sofa.   
“Alright.” Sherlock replied. When both men were seated, John gently placed Amilia in Sherlock’s arms. 

Sherlock looked at the little girl in his arms. He found himself remembering the first time he was allowed to hold Salina. He knew from the wide-eyed look she gave him, that his niece had inherited the Holmes family genius. A feeling welled up in him: the feeling of pride and excitement of having an opportunity to teach someone, the way Mycroft had taught him. 

“Sherlock? You alright?” John asked, a concerned look on his face.   
“Fine. I was just…” He trailed off when he realized that little Amilia was looking at him. She had blue eyes that screamed intelligence.   
“I’m going to keep you.” Sherlock whispered. John smiled at the thought of Sherlock completely forgetting himself whilst holding a baby. He felt a burst of affection towards the man that he had never felt before…Love.

 

*******************************The Following Day**************************

 

The next day Stephan’s mother was put to rest. Mycroft had asked Anthea to see to every detail, it was expensive but purposely tasteful. There was no need for anything extravagant, but the woman deserved a beautiful farewell. 

Marcus stood with Stephan, their hands never parting as they watched the elegant white casket lower into the earth. Tears fell silently from their faces. The two stepped forward to each drop a single white rose into the ground. 

When they stepped back, a shovel of dirt was dumped into the grave. The priest finished the last rights and crossed himself. Mycroft and Greg stood behind the two boys as those who had gathered offered their condolences, sympathies, and…pity. 

Stephanie and Salina had gone ahead to the flat with John and Sherlock. Amilia had begun to fuss because she needed a change, whilst the two girls felt their presence was smothering the boys. When all had departed, and it was only the four of them, the priest, and the grounds keeper, Stephan spoke.

“I would like to wait.” He whispered, wiping the tears from his face.   
“Of course.” Greg replied. He patted the boy on the shoulder and squeezed Marcus’ arm. He and Mycroft started walking to the car. 

They had been through a lot together. Greg thought back to that night: if Mrs. Marceletti hadn’t intervened when she did, neither of their boys would be here today. In all likelihood it would be their graves that he and Mycroft would be standing over. Greg pushed the thought away as he blinked back tears.

He leaned against the side of the car, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Mycroft stood next to him before leaning back as well. He reached into his pocket. Greg heard the tell-tale click of a lighter before the smell of cigarette smoke invaded his senses. He opened his eyes to see Mycroft taking a drag, his eyes closed in concentration. 

“I didn’t know you started again?” Greg asked, concerned.   
“Only when the stress becomes too much and a drink is unavailable or inappropriate.” Mycroft replied, letting out a puff of smoke and opening his eyes.   
“I understand. Mind if I…” Mycroft had read his mind and handed him a cigarette. “Thanks.” He mumbled as Mycroft held out the lighter. Greg took a drag before speaking. “Are we ever going to tell Stephan?” 

“It would be unwise to do so.” Mycroft replied.  
“Is he in any danger?” Greg asked, giving his lover a concerned look.  
“No. Don Marceletti has promised to let his grandson alone. It would not do to have a ‘family heir’ murdered. He has asked me to look after the boy on ‘the family’s’ behalf.” Mycroft answered, taking another drag from his cigarette. 

 

“And Stephan’s mother? What is the Don going to do about her?”  
“If I understood Don Marceletti correctly, his daughter will be returning home, never to set foot on British soil again. She is safe with ‘the family’. No harm will come to her.”   
“But Stephan is safe, right?” Greg asked, needing confirmation.

“I promise.” Mycroft replied, before changing the subject of conversation. “We cannot make a habit of smoking. Our girls would be extremely disappointed if we did so.” Mycroft murmured.   
“Stephanie would have us properly chastised, I’m sure of it.” Mycroft gave him a small smile.   
“Of that I have no doubt.” He took one last drag before dropping it and crushing it with the heel of his shoe. As the two boys approached the car Greg did the same.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions feel free to ask. I will be uploading a companion index soon, that should help with any confusion (may contain slight spoilers). 
> 
> Please let me know if you come across any issues with continuity or such. Not Brit-picked. All the works in this series are Beta Read, but some things can get missed.-Thank you


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